


the dress

by gemineyes



Series: endgame [1]
Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Sexual Tension, benny is a massive simp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemineyes/pseuds/gemineyes
Summary: Benny Watts has not seen Beth for months, but that doesn't mean she's off his mind.
Relationships: Beth Harmon & Benny Watts, Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Series: endgame [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068377
Comments: 20
Kudos: 248





	the dress

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! im new to ao3 and i lowkey just joined to post my benny/beth oneshots but shhhh it's okay. ik it's a little messy and it doesn't really make sense but i wanted to get the whole gang together again okay 🙄

Benny slammed his hands down on the chessboard. It was useless. He’d been staring at the setup for well over an hour. It wasn’t too difficult, or at least it shouldn’t be. But the board suddenly looked like nonsense to him. None of the positions made sense. It didn’t matter, that he knew. Just a hypothetical. No one was looking across at him from the other side of the pieces, no one was tapping their foot under the table. He had no opponent; especially not the certain redheaded one he couldn’t seem to shake from his mind. He leaned back in his chair in exhaustion. 

There had been radio silence between the two of them since Moscow. He’d hoped the phone call would be enough of a grand gesture. He’d hoped that afterwards, she’d come back to New York. That they’d apologize to one another and things would return to normal, whatever that meant, anyway. But he’d hoped in vain. No call. No knock on his door. It was stupid of him to expect that. The only world in which Beth Harmon made bold moves was the 64 squares of a chessboard. He buried his face in his hand. What he needed now, more than anything, was a damn drink. But there was no alcohol in the apartment; a remnant from Beth’s time there. He couldn’t bring himself to buy any more, just as he couldn’t bring himself to put away the air mattress, or stop buying her favorite breakfast cereal, or get rid of that damn dress she had left in the closet. Force of habit. Part of him still expected her to burst through that door one day. Part of him at least expected a call. That was the same part of him who had expected an apology on that phone call before her trip to Moscow.  _ Too fucking hopeful _ , he thought, shaking his head.

He wanted to hate Beth. More than anything. He wanted to burn her forgotten dress, he wanted to purge the memory of her from his head. But he couldn’t. Every goddamn thing reminded him of her. And he hated himself for it. Self-loathing was an odd feeling for Benny Watts, and it wasn’t one he was particularly fond of. He closed his eyes, allowing his straying thoughts to take over. Those weeks in New York had been torture. Every move she made, the subtle flit of her eyelashes, the assured steps she made strutting around the apartment, her rare and reluctant smiles when he managed to make her laugh.  _ God, _ her fucking laugh. This feeling, however infuriating, hadn’t gone away ever since. It’d been months since he’d even heard her voice, let alone see her in person. But Beth Harmon’s presence in his life was more real than ever. 

The morning light streaming in from his apartment’s small window woke Benny suddenly.  _ Shit.  _ He’d fallen asleep by the board. He wondered when the last time he’d done that was, and decided it was before his first match in Europe. When chess was his life, when to be the best anyone had ever seen was all he wanted. Now, he was overcome with a new kind of wanting, one that he didn’t exactly know how to handle. If only he could just ignore it. But denial would only make the feeling fester.

Yawning, he stood up and stretched his sore muscles, bringing his arms above his head and ruffling his fingers through his hair before making the coffee. He had rituals of his own these days, but none were as concrete as Beth’s. To his surprise, he’d become quite the mess without her. He had often told himself back then that he was a necessary presence in Beth’s life; to control her substance intake; to keep her from spiraling out of control. But now, as he floundered helplessly in the New York summer heat, he wondered if it had really been the other way around. He’d kept up with Beth in the only way he could; in the papers and magazines. She seemed to be doing quite well, making appearances at tournaments around the country and doing interviews for papers. He read them all, though he would never admit it. He’d imagine the reporters’ quotes in her voice, and for a moment he could pretend she was really there with him.  _ God _ , he was pathetic.

The phone rang at about 11:30. He rushed to pick it up, hoping in vain that he’d hear a certain voice from the other line. But it was a man who had called. He recognized the voice, but it took him a moment to work out who it was.  _ Townes? _ What could he possibly want?

“I have a favor to ask.”

Benny raised his eyebrows, interest piqued. What favor could Townes need from him? “Go on.”

“Well, Harry and Mike and Matt and I have been in touch… and- well, Benny, you know Beth will be at the U.S Open in Aspen.”

His heart rate rose at the mention of her name. Of course he knew she’d be there. Not playing, of course, but he’d heard talk of a few papers arranging interviews with her there, hoping to get some prized shots of her watching the newcomers’ matches. 

“She’s been out of touch with all of us, you know that.”

He didn’t.

“But we were hoping to surprise her there.” Benny could hear the smile in his voice. “We wanted to give her a proper congratulations.”

Benny was silent for a moment, processing the conversation. It was a nice thing to do, really. Beth had mentioned Townes from time to time, but it had never occurred to him that he cared for her the same way she did for him. That was a stupid assumption, he supposed. But why… a lump rose in his throat at the thought. No, they were just friends. Clearly. 

“Y-yes,” Benny managed, “yes, I can be there.”

Townes sighed, clearly relieved.  _ Had he expected him to say no?  _ “Great. I’m glad.” He lowered his voice slightly, as if afraid some phantom presence might overhear. “She wants to see you.”

_ She does? _

“We’re meeting the last day of the tournament, the 25th, at the hotel. See you then, Benny.”

He glanced at the calendar pinned near the door. The 25th was in two weeks.

It was another week before Benny received a knock at his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not the tall black woman that greeted him when he opened it. Smiling, as if amused by his shock, she extended her hand.

“Jolene,” she said, shaking Benny’s hand firmly, before walking past him through the doorway.

“Damn. Beth wasn’t kidding about this place. It’s tiny.” 

She ran her hand across the kitchen counter, surveying the small room.

“Don’t chess players make tons? _Where_ are you spending it?”

“Who are you again?”

“Jolene?” 

Benny stared blankly.

“Beth’s old friend from the orphanage?”

“Not ringing any bells.” He shrugged.

She scoffed and shook her head. “Damn cracker.”

“So um… do you have any particular  _ reason _ for coming, or are you just here to insult me?” 

“I hear you’re a bad listener, Benny Watts,” she said as she sat back in one of the foldout chairs behind the chessboard in the center of the living area, where one might typically find a couch. “And how I see it...” She picked up a pawn and twirled it between her fingers before setting it back down. “The only game you know is chess.”

He eyed Jolene quizzically. Had Beth been saying this to her? Had Beth been- talking about him?

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Beth, dumbass. You haven’t called, you haven’t said anything. She wondered if you might be dead, for Christ’s sake. Sittin’ around that phone like a damn fool… waiting for you.”

He blanched. Waiting for  _ him _ ? The ball was in her court! He’d made the call in Moscow, and now it was  _ her  _ turn.

“Are you sure you have the right address, ma’am? My name is Benny Watts. That’s B-E-”

“Oh hush.”

“I made the call in Moscow. It’s Beth who’s been avoiding  _ me. _ ”

“You made a call coaching her, giving her advice, correct?”

He nodded.

“And then she won. She took your advice. And you didn’t talk to her after, that a fact?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,  _ shit _ .” She chuckled. “You are one cruel motherfucker, Benny Watts.”

He rubbed his hands on his temples. How was he supposed to make this up? 

“Look. I’m seeing her next week in Aspen-” 

“I know, I’ll be there.” Jolene looked out the small window, crossing her arms on the table.

“You?”

“You’re not her only friend, you know.”

“But- how did you even find  _ out  _ about this? I mean, it’s- it’s a chess thing you know. I don’t imagine you play-”

She rolled her eyes. “It was my idea,  _ Benny. _ ”

He wondered if he’d heard her right. No, he definitely had. Somehow, Townes had failed to mention that. There was a moment of silence as he thought about his next move.

“What do I do?” He said, finally looking up to meet Jolene’s eyes. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The past few days had been a whirlwind. Interview after interview, photoshoot after photoshoot. It seems the world of chess still had not fully processed her win, even though by now it had been almost four months. A  _ woman _ : international chess champion. “ _ Unbelievable!” _ One reporter in Kentucky had remarked. Beth didn’t quite understand what was so unbelievable about it. She was the best, and it was time the world come to terms with that. She strutted up the stairs in the Aspen hotel, hoping to catch the tail end of the matches at boards 1 and 2: the top contenders. She hadn’t bothered to pay much attention to the tournament itself. Most of the games bored her. This type of chess was mechanical, grueling. It lacked the subtle elegance, the suspense, that drew her to chess in the first place.

Glancing down at her watch, she saw that it was already 5:00. The matches were surely over by now. She’d scheduled her interviews for that morning, so her afternoon would be free.  _ Finally, a break _ , she thought, entering the elevator. 

“Floor 4,” she said to the operator.

Perhaps in her room she could start on one of the new books she had bought for herself upon returning. She’d practically exhausted the ones she already owned and had donated many of them to the bookstore in Lexington. She was unfazed by the loss of possessions.  _ They had nothing left to teach her.  _ When the elevator reached her floor, she had decided. She would make herself a cup of coffee, then read for a bit. After studying a match or two, she might even allow herself to turn on the TV-

Beth stopped in her tracks. Five men and one woman stood outside her door, muttering to one another. 

“Like this maybe?” The medium-sized man with dark curls gestured to the side.

“No no no...you gotta turn it like this,” said the woman, in a voice that let the others know she knew what she was talking about.

One of the other men, a tall, handsome one, piped up. “I don’t think that will-”

“Ah-ha! Got it!” The man in the center said, sporting a leather jacket over his jeans and t-shirt, beaming with pride. He cracked open Beth’s door, looking over his shoulder to the others, clearly expecting excitement. By then though, the others had already spotted Beth. They stared from across the hall, gawking. Obviously, they had not anticipated her presence.

Finally, Townes stepped forward. “Beth,” he said through faint laughter.

“We weren’t expecting you to be here- we uh-” Harry stammered, fidgeting with his hands.

“You wanted to ransack my room before I could make it back?” She asked, cracking a smile.

“Damn, she caught on.” Jolene shook her head in feigned disappointment.

“You didn’t have to break-in, you know. You could have  _ asked  _ me.” She shot a pointed look at Benny, who was avoiding her eyes.

“We wanted to surprise you,” Mike said.

His brother took a step out, to make himself more visible to Beth. “But it looks like it’s a little late for that.”

“I’m dead serious. In front of the whole fuckin’ school, with this huge jar of tranquilizers. I’ve never seen as much fury in anyone’s eyes. Our superintendent was never the same.” 

Jolene had entertained them for a while, telling stories of Methuen and of Beth that she never would have shared herself. But she didn’t mind much. It was nice, actually to reflect on those days from so far away. She’d never have to walk through those tall, imposing doors again, and that was enough for her to brave any embarrassment in front of her friends. 

“For real? And then she just-passed out?” Mike asked, incredulous.

They had spread out as evenly as they could in the cramped room. Beth sat alone on the bench at the end of the Bed, her knees tucked under her. Jolene had settled on the armchair in the corner, and Townes in the desk chair opposite her. Mike and Matt sat on the floor under the window. Benny was perched on the windowsill. Beth saw him look at the parking lot every so often. He could at least  _ pretend  _ to act interested.

“And that wasn’t even the worst part,” Beth continued, sipping her carbonated water. “They took away chess. That was my punishment.”

“Cruel,” Townes said, shaking his head.

“For three years I didn’t play.”

“Look who’s laughing now Deardorff, look who’s laughing now…” Jolene removed her jacket, setting it on the back of her seat.

“Mrs.Deardorff can kiss my ass.”

The words felt powerful, something that surely would've gotten her mouth washed out at Methuen. She wasn’t drunk, but she felt vaguely like it. Being here with them was strange and unfamiliar, but she wasn’t scared. Facing Borgov had taught Beth that her fear was conquerable, even without the green tranquilizers she’d grown reliant on in her youth. She hadn’t been in a group like this for a long while. Since her meeting with the Apple Pis, come to think of it. About five years ago now. In some ways, she felt a lifetime away from the awkward teenager she was then. In others, she hadn’t progressed much at all. In one way in particular, she really had no idea where she stood. She didn’t like the feeling of uncertainty. A million different moves that could be made, all with different outcomes. She tore her eyes away from Benny, pushing down the lump in her throat. 

Members of the group left one by one. Eventually, Beth sat alone in the room with Benny and Jolene. 

“Well,” Jolene said, standing up, “it’s really time I get going. I don’t want to miss my flight.” She grabbed her jacket and made her way to the door. 

“Bye Beth, bye  _ Benny _ .” 

She gave him an odd look before closing the door. Beth had noticed this throughout their conversation. She wondered if Jolene hated him. She hoped not.

It was silent for a moment. Benny was still looking out at the parking lot, and stayed there for so long Beth began to think he may have fallen asleep.

“I should have called,” he said abruptly.

“Yes. You should have.”

“I’m sorry. I thought- I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

She looked up at him, incredulous.  _ He didn’t think she’d want to see him?  _

“I came to New York.”

That shocked him. Finally, he met her eyes.

“You  _ what _ ?”

“I came to New York, Benny.”

Maybe she’d said too much.

“For the dress,” she said, lowering her gaze once more.

His eyes sparked with recognition. “The dress. Right.”

Silence fell over them once again, heavier this time.

“Do you have it?” She asked. The words came quickly without much thought. This wasn’t good. She was losing control.

“Have what?”

“The dress, Benny. Do you have the dress?”

“Oh. No. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She bit her lip and her mouth to speak. This felt like a bad idea.

“I should go,” he said before she could speak.

Beth exhaled, in a strange mix of relief and sadness. 

“Let me walk you,” she said, ushering him to the doorway. She had to get him out quickly. Before she did something rash.

They stood face-to-face now, her hand keeping the door open. He stood there for a moment, looking pensive. There was something he wanted to say. He looked to the ceiling in frustration, running a hand through his tangled hair. His  _ hair.  _

“I’ll mail it to you,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The dress. I’ll mail it to you.”

She shook her head, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth and rolling her eyes.

He looked sad,  _ desperate.  _ And though she knew her face did not betray it, she felt the same.

“I don’t care about the dress, Benny.”

Before she could convince herself against it, she leaned forward to kiss him in one swift motion. Their mouths opened to one another, inviting the other to make their respective moves. Benny shut the door behind him, without moving his face from hers. Their movements were hurried, fervent. She was struck in this moment by how badly she wanted him. Maybe she always had. Benny dropped his hands to her hips, pinning her against the wall in the cramped hallway leading to the main room. She worked her arms around him, sliding his leather jacket onto the floor.

“I’ll come with you… to New York,” Beth said between kisses, her voice hushed and out of breath.

“What?” he murmured. He positioned his left hand behind her head as his right began to ride up her skirt.

“The dress,” she kissed him, hurriedly unfastening the button of his blue jeans, “I don’t want it to wrinkle in the mail.”


End file.
